From the novel "Reconsider Me" by Rae Murphy
09:27, November 11, 2010 (UTC)]] I filled a frosty mug full of beer and sat it in front of the red haired guy. Then I filled two pitchers for Michael and put them on a tray so I could take them to the table. “No, babe,” Michael said. “I’ll carry them over; looks like you are busy here at the bar.” He continued to stand there and stare at the red haired man. The red haired man ignored him and took a drink of his beer. “Hey.” Michael said, “Aren’t you some kind of musician, Warren Zevon, right?” Warren looked over at Michael and said, “Sometimes I am, sometimes I’m not.” “You don’t need to be a smart ass.” Michael said. Warren looked at me and said, “Give those bikers a couple of pitchers on me.” Michael looked at him with a smirk on his face. “Fuck you man, we don’t need no half ass musician to buy our drinks. You can shove those pitchers. And you had better be real polite to this lady here. Anything else will be your ticket out of here the hard way, both of you fuckin’ freaks.” I looked at Michael and said, “Please, don't come up to the bar and start shit with my customers, come on man. Mike took the pitchers of beer off the tray and walked back over to the table. I could see that he was talking to Johnny Raincloud about our new patrons, because they kept looking over towards the bar. I was hoping that they weren't making some sort of plan to possibly hurt somebody. The guitar man did not seem to be bothered by the bikers at all. He smiled at me, took his wallet out of his pocket and handed me a $10 bill.He said,“Keep the change; you deserve the tip for even working in a place like this.” I hoped that the “eat me” remark had slipped his mind. As the evening wore on I played the jukebox with dollar bills the Angels were tossing my way. Warren and his buddy tossed some to me also for the jukebox. Some of them I shoved into my pocket, thinking that with some of these dollar bills I could buy groceries for a week. The red haired guitar man told me his name was Warren Zevon. His friend seemed obliged to introduce himself as Norman. Warren asked me what my name might be and I refused to tell him. He seemed to think it would be hip to make a guessing game to see if they could come up with my name. I was becoming annoyed by both of them and their dim-witted name game, anyway. I walked over to the jukebox and turned the music up loud enough so that I didn’t have to hear them from my side of the bar. The stepping outside for toking on who knows how many joints had been a part of that evening too, more than once for all of them. The Hell’s Angels had already given me the low down on all I needed to know about marijuana and I had sampled their product more than a few times. Not my problem if people wanted to go outside and do drugs. They were out of the building so it I was not my responsibility. It seemed they took turns with the Angels. The two patrons would go out for ten minutes or so and then a few of the Angels would take turns going out for a smoke. After two more hours of drinking on the part of all my patrons and a few glasses of wine for me, it was finally two A.M. and I announced last call. By the time I had the inside lights off and the doors locked Warren and his buddy were standing in the parking lot next to a little white station wagon. I couldn't figure out why, they just didn't get in their car and get the hell out of there. The Angels were outside standing in a group near the motorcycles. ‘You gonna be alright Rae?” Michael said as he and Johnny Raincloud walked up to me, standing by my car. “Of course, I’m going straight home.” I said. Unexpectedly, Johnny Raincloud got in Warren’s face and said, “You know man, your fuckin’ music sucks. Only pussies and fags would listen to that kind of shit. So don’t come here on our turf thinking you can walk around like you’re somebody, cause you are a fuckin’ nobody here.” Warren looked up at Johnny. The Indian must have been at least a foot taller than he was. Warren took his glasses off and handed them to Norman. He said, “If we’re gonna rumble then let’s go one on one. I don’t think all you dudes want to jump two guys. Especially with this lady standing here. A lady should not be subjected to such violence, anyway.” Michael said, “It's not worth it Raincloud, unless you feel like spending more time in the county jail. What about Rae, she has a son to take care of and I am sure she would like to leave here with peace of mind, man.” Johnny looked at me and for once he actually appeared to see me. He said, “Yeah, fuckin’ A. Sorry Rae, it’s just that these little rich pricks piss me off.” “Okay,” I said. “I am leaving now. Make my night by roaring those motorcycles safely out of here.” LOLA49 09:25, November 11, 2010 (UTC) Category:Warren Zevon Homages